How I Met Your Other Mother
by JStone95
Summary: Rachel tells her children different stories of her past. Humor!Fic. Established Faberry. Pezberry friendship.
1. Take Time to Remember

Single pieces of One-Shot.

Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine.

Note: HIMYM Style. Introducing the Berry-Fabray children: Beth, the 15 year old daughter and Tony, the five year old son. Both are forced to sit on the couch and listen to their mom, Rachel, as she tells them the story of how she met their mother.

Summary: Rachel talks about Quinn's jealousy issues. An old story is digged up from the past and it suddenly turns out to have different alternatives.

_**ATTENTION VERY IMPORTANT or else you'll get confused: **Italics - present tense, _Normal is the past.

* * *

"_As you know, your other mother has always had some jealousy issues -"_

"_Some?" Beth sarcastically snorts. "Mommy totally threatened my friend Trisha when she found out about her celebrity crush, which inexplicably happened to be you."_

"_Hey, I happen to be a very desirable woman according to the new FHM list..._

"_Ew."_

"_What's FHM, mom?"_

"_Nothing, Tony. Anyways, she's always been a bit possessive and it's not easy to have a jealous girlfriend when you're a leading actress in a Broadway musical about love. It was twenty years ago, four months after we got engaged..."_

"I want you to put it on me," Rachel whispered into Quinn's ear, making her blush.

"_Ew, mom! We don't want to hear that!"_

"_Wait, wait, let me explain:_

Rachel was holding a ridiculous looking tiara that was overly big and had too many fake diamonds. She couldn't believe that the props department couldn't come up with anything better than that.

"I think it's cute," a familiar voice chuckled behind her.

Rachel beamed before she even turned around to see who it was.

"Quinn!" she exclaimed happily, going in for hug. The blonde shortly kissed her on the cheek.

"What's it for?" Quinn questioningly asked, pointing at the tiara.

Rachel rolled her eyes and pouted when she explained, "It's for my new role as a gender confused prince who identifies himself more as a princess. Throughout the play, he slowly transforms into a real girl, which is played by me in the end. Brody's covering the first half."

Quinn raised one skeptical eyebrow. Rachel laughed and added, "Don't ask. The script was written by this new controversial writer who's just won a few prizes. Can't recall his name."

"Hm, still, I think it's cute," Quinn said with a smile.

Rachel stepped up to Quinn, letting their bodies melt into one. Her warm breath ghosting over Quinn's pale cheeks, she whispered into her ear, "Okay, then. Make me feel like a princess. I want you to put it on me."

And the tiara was forced into one of Quinn's hand. Quinn couldn't contain it anymore, her cheeks rapidly reddened and she bursted out in laughter because really, the tiara was ridiculous and with the large thing on Rachel's head, it almost looked offensively stupid.

"See, case closed. It's ridiculous." With that, Rachel carelessly flung the tiara over her shoulder, on the stage ground. Someone was going to pick that up later.

"Let's go, I'm starving. I've been rehearsing my songs for the last two hours."

Quinn contently linked her arms with her fianceé, leading the way out of the big rehearsal room.

"Oh, and Quinn, I hope you don't mind, but I've invited my co-star Gabrielle over to rehearse our scenes together," Rachel remarked as if she was talking about the weather. Quinn stiffened next to her.

"_You see, kids, I should've taken this as a warning sign and just shut up. But back then, I didn't have the experience of being sixteen years together with your mother."_

"...and a really fantastic dancer, she can bend her upper body all the way down to her -" Rachel stopped

talking when she noticed Quinn looking completely distant. "Quinn?" Rachel tried, shaking her girlfriend with the arm that was linked to hers. "I'm boring you, aren't I?"

"No," Quinn forced a smile with gritted teeth. "Just go on."

"_Oh no, mom. Tell me you didn't."_

"_Well -"_

"And she was nominated for an Oscar!" Rachel brightly continued. "Now if that isn't an accomplishment. Of course, she could've won the Oscar like you did, but it's something, right? And she has a passion for literature of the 20th century, just like you! I can't wait till the two of you meet, you will get along for sure."

"_They didn't."_

"- And I bet you will like her as much as I do."

"_She didn't. But you will see it yourself later. Anyway, your mommy hid it well, she didn't get an Oscar for nothing, and I never realized how much it had bothered her. Children, jealousy is something you sometimes can't control and when you think you do, it's actually controlling you."_

In the living room of the Berry-Fabray household, Rachel sat comfortably on the large couch with her feet propped up on the grandcoffee table. Opposite of her, her co-star Gabrielle sat on a single couch with her legs crossed. They were rehearsing the scenes they had together.

"Do you not desire my touch, my Prince? Do you not find me desirable anymore?" Gabrielle theatrically exclaimed, her tone hurt and bordering a whine. To feel the drama, she motioned with her hands, seemingly reaching after Rachel with grabbing hands.

Rachel almost snorted with laughter, but stayed professional. "No, my princess, it is not you. You are as desirable as you've always been, but I cannot feel the passion anymore."

"_Kids, I still can't believe that this musical won a Tony Award. I think the judges were impressed of how the actors turned this sad script into a good musical."_

"Then tell me, Prince, why can you not enjoy the warmth of my body on you? Do my... womanly curves... not affect you..."

Gabrielle started out dramatically, then her voice got slower and drier until she deadpanned. "Wow. That's crap."

Rachel agreeingly hummed, turning over a few pages. "And it's not getting better."

"_But we had no other choice than to learn our lines, we weren't professionals for no reason. And this went on for ten long minutes when your Auntie Santana burst in. She's always had this irritating habit of breaking into our apartment unannounced if she wanted something."_

Rachel and Gabrielle were in the middle of reading out a small scene when Santana burst through the apartment door, shaking with the keys, which Rachel already regretted giving her. She had explicitly said, 'Only in case of emergencies', but there wasn't one day where it wasn't an emergency for Santana. That was only one of the disadvantages of living beneath her apartment.

"Hey, Berry, I – uh, have this thing and you've got to help me out," Santana exclaimed, pointing over her shoulder. "Now. Like, in this moment."

Rachel sighed and nodded to Gabrielle. "Can't you see we're busy rehearsing our lines? That's Gabrielle by the way, my co-star for the musical."

Gabrielle gave her a polite smile before she turned her head back to the script, already reading out her next lines under her breath. Santana furrowed her eyebrows, not used to being easily dismissed.

"Fine," Santana spoke up again, strangely loud for whatever reason, "I tried. So, um, I'll just go and think about getting a new best friend, because you suck."

Rachel didn't even look up when Santana left her apartment again.

"Your friend is weird," Gabrielle remarked, not looking up from her script.

"Yep," Rachel agreed, trying to mark a line in her script when she noticed that her pen had dried out. "Hey, do you mind me borrowing your pen?"

"'course not," Gabrielle smiled. "But you've got to catch it, alright?"

"Alright," Rachel laughed, putting her script aside, ready to catch the pen with both of her hands.

Gabrielle aimed for a second, then threw the pen across the large table, which ultimately hit Rachel's -

"_Honey? Kids? I'm home!"_

_Rachel and the children look up to the door where Quinn just entered the apartment. _

"_Oh, no, I can't continue with this story if your mother is going to listen..." Rachel mutters, but Beth is having other plans._

"_Mommy, mom's telling us an interesting about a former co-star called Gabrielle."_

_Rachel's eyes widens as she hisses at Beth, "Are you trying to get grounded?"_

_Beth sassily sticks out her tongue. Tony looks confused between Rachel and Quinn._

_Quinn immediately narrows her eyes as she drops her bags and pulls off her coat. "What about her?"_

"_Nothing, just about how they once rehearsed their lines together. All alone."_

"_That's it, Beth!" Rachel pretends to grab after her daughter when Tony squeals in laughter, thinking this is a game. He throws himself in front of Beth, who laughs. "Good boy."_

"_You all sit down," Quinn orders and Rachel and the children quickly sit down again. "It's time to look at your mother's stupid stories from my perspective."_

"_They're not stupid!" Rachel tries to defend herself._

"_Shh, I want to hear her side of the story for a change," Beth says to Quinn's satisfaction. They don't just look alike, Beth usually tends to listen more to Quinn than to Rachel. But only because Beth is a rational girl and Quinn is the more rational parent unlike Rachel, who sometimes lets her feelings get in the way of making decisions._

"_Your mom, Rachel, can be so dumb sometimes," Quinn begins, making Rachel gasp. "Excuse me?"_

"_Just listen, Rachel:_

Quinn couldn't believe that Rachel invited her co-star over for rehearsing lines. But at the same time, she couldn't really use this against Rachel, she was just doing her job, but still. It bothered Quinn. A lot.

It wasn't under her control, feeling all these things, it wasn't that she liked being in a state of constant jealousy. She couldn't help it, she couldn't stop it. And she hadn't dared to tell Rachel about her problem. Or condition.

She feared that Rachel would get irritated with her, because no one wanted to deal with an overjealous girlfriend. And they were already engaged, she had finally found someone to share her life with and she was quite sure that she would never find someone as patient as Rachel had been with her again.

That was why she had to keep up the illusion of being a perfect girlfriend. She was an Oscar winning actress for heaven's sake, what was a little bit pretending in comparison to that.

So she had lied to Rachel and told her that she was out with a friend for coffee. So Rachel could rehearse her lines with Gabrielle in their apartment. But what her fianceé didn't know, Quinn couldn't bring herself to leave Rachel alone with another woman, so she faked leaving the apartment short before Gabrielle's arrival and stayed hidden in the closet instead.

"_If I hear a closet pun, I will ground you. Yes, Rachel, you, too."_

When Quinn was sure that Gabrielle and Rachel had settled down in the living room, she came out of the closet and quietly crawled to the kitchen, which was connected to the living room.

She could hear Gabrielle loudly and stupidly giggling over something Rachel had said.

"_She doesn't giggle and I can't believe you were there the whole time-"_

"_Rachel!"_

Quinn dared to peek over the kitchen counter and her eyes narrowed in anger at what she saw.

There, on a couch that was large enough for four people, sat Rachel right next to Gabrielle, the side of their bodies almost touching. She could almost see Gabrielle breathing down Rachel's neck as she looked into her script, as if she didn't have one of her own.

"Don't you want to touch me, my Prince," Gabrielle seductively whispered, leaning towards Rachel, "Don't you think I'm desirable and hot?"

"_That's certainly not what the script said and not how Gabrielle acted-"_

"_Zip! I'm telling the story now."_

Clueless to Gabrielle's advances, Rachel monotonously read from the script, "No, my princess, it is not you. You are as desirable as you've always been, but I cannot feel the passion anymore."

Quinn pulled a grimace at this, the script was a shame.

Now sure that the two musical actors wouldn't suddenly turn around, Quinn shifted to get into a comfortable position to watch them.

"Then tell me," Gabrielle almost moaned, putting a hand on Rachel's shoulder and Quinn almost growled. "Why don't you just enjoy my naked body on yours, do my breasts not affect you?"

Rachel didn't notice Gabrielle almost captivating her left arm, she turned over a page in her script instead. "Wow. That's crap."

While her eyes were soaking up Rachel's profile, Gabrielle distractedly remarked, "And it's not getting better. Unless we act the sex scene out. You know, authentically."

Rachel shrugged, not really listening as she marked her lines in the script.

Quinn had seen enough. She tip-toed out of the kitchen into the bedroom and slowly locked the door behind her. Then she almost lunged after her phone, her fingers flying over the touch screen as she dialled a number she hadn't used often since it was relatively new in her phone book. But it was an emergency.

"Lopez on the line, you want something, white girl?" Santana greeted her in her charming ways.

Still not used to Rachel's best friend's behavior, since they knew each other only for one month after Rachel had introduced Santana to her, Quinn paused before she replied, "Can I ask you for a favor?"

She heard Santana laughing on the other side of the line. "Sorry girl, but I don't play with Rachel's barbies. I'm a loyal sis. But I totally knew from the beginning that you wanted to get up all on that fine body that is mine."

"Ew," Quinn scrunched up her face. "No, not that. Never that."

"Oops, didn't hear that, you were saying?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Could you come to our place for a second? And try to get Rachel to go with you?"

"Why? Is there some hot actress with her or what?"

Quinn growled. "An actress, yes."

"No, you don't get it. Is she hot?"

"Could you just come over now? It's only gonna take you a minute," Quinn sighed.

"So she must be hot or you wouldn't feel threatened. Okay, I'll be there in three, two, one -"

And exactly at one, Quinn heard Santana bursting through the apartment door, yelling, "Hey, Berry, I – uh, have this thing and you've got to help me out."

Quinn unlocked the bedroom door and carefully tip-toed back to the kitchen.

"Now. Like, in this moment."

"Can't you see we're busy rehearsing our lines?" Gabrielle snapped at her, irritated at the fact that her attempt to get a wiff off Rachel's fresh hair was interrupted. Rachel just awkwardly waved hello at Santana.

Santana immediately got defensive at being so blatantly blown off, so that she loudly answered for Quinn to hear, "Fine. I tried. So I'll just go and think about getting a new best friend whose fianceé doesn't lie to me about mediocre looking actresses."

Quinn shook her head no and wanted to get Santana to stay, but she was out of the apartment the next second. A terrible friend she was. She couldn't believe that she was Rachel's best friend.

"Your friend is weird. And weird is only good when it comes to sex. Which I am really good at," Gabrielle commented, scooting closer to Rachel again, who was busy marking her lines.

"Hm," Rachel hummed, noticing her pen was running out of ink. "Do you mind me borrowing your pen?"

"Of course not," Gabrielle stupidly giggled, "I don't mind at all. You can borrow everything you want. Everything."

"It's okay, I just need a pen right now," Rachel dumbly smiled.

Gabrielle slyly smirked and put her pen into her mouth. "But you've got to catch it. With your mouth."

"_Okay, enough, I've listened to this story for far too long! Quinn, nothing you remember is correct! You can't just randomly invent things out of the blue!"_

"_Oh, so you don't believe me that that slu...bit..woman was into you?"_

_Beth and Tony look between their mothers like a tennis match._

"_Of course not, our relationship had been professional from the start!"_

"_Okay, so let's pull a third referee into this game. Call Santana."_

"_Yay, Auntie Tana!" Tony exclaims, since the name of his aunt is the only thing he can understand. He actually never understands anything his brunette mother tells him about. He's just five. But he likes to listen to his mother's voice and he likes to see her happy when she's telling these stories. So that's why he pretends to be actually listening when he really doesn't understand anything. Which is sometimes for the better._

_Beth has taken it upon herself to call aunt Santana since Quinn and Rachel are still fighting. _

_When Santana finally bursts through the door like in the old days, the married couple stops bickering._

"_You prayed to God?" Santana smirks._

_Quinn and Rachel almost start fighting again as they try to get Santana on their side of the story until Beth shouts, "Stop! Auntie, you start."_

_Santana looks like in her element as she sits down on the couch next to Tony and fondly ruffles his hair. Tony squeals with laughter and tells her to stop, but everybody knows he actually enjoys the attention._

"_You want my unbiased version? Well..."_

Santana was in the middle of deciding whether to go to the gym or to the bar, but it was a Sunday afternoon and even for her circumstances a little bit out of the ordinary to drink alcohol. Unless there was something to celebrate or forget.

That was when her ringing cellphone postponed her decisions.

Incoming call. Quinn Fabray.

Surprised why Rachel's fianceé would call her, since they weren't really familiar with each other yet, Santana still picked up the phone like she would with friends.

"Lopez on the line, you want something, white girl?" Santana greeted with a grin. If that Fabray woman really wanted to stay longer in Rachel's life, then this was the least she could tolerate.

"Can I ask you for a favor?" she heard Quinn whisper through the line.

Santana smirked. She knew it. Everybody wanted to get up on all that hot stuff that was her.

"Sorry, girl. I'm a loyal sis and I'd never do that to my best friend, Rachel. But it's okay, your secret is fine with me."

"Oh," Quinn muttered in disappointment, but she quickly covered it up. "Anyways, could you come to our place for a second? And try to get Rachel to go with you? Because there is this stunningly gorgeous actress with my fianceé and I don't want her to get any ideas."

Santana thoughtfully hummed as she opened her door and left her apartment. She took the stairs since it was just one floor down to Rachel and Quinn's apartment.

"Girl, I understand. I'm coming to help, I'll be there in three," Santana jumped off the last step of the stairs, "two," and took two long strides to stop in front of a door with the number 255, "one."

Unlocking the door with the keys Rachel gave her only for emergencies, which was one right now, Santana pushed open the door and entered the apartment.

Rachel was just reading out her line while that beautiful co-star was staring at the ceiling in disinterest. But at Santana's arrival, Gabrielle's attention flew to her. A seductive smile immediately graced her features.

Santana nodded to herself in satisfaction, winking at Gabrielle. That woman totally wanted her.

"Hey, Berry, I – uh, have this thing and you've got to help me out," Santana distractedly said, not putting effort in her lie at all, because she was busy having eye sex with that hot actress. They needed to have sex. "Now. Like, in this moment."

Gabrielle swooned over her commanding tone.

Rachel looked irritated when she realized that Gabrielle's attention was all on Santana now.

"Can't you see we're busy rehearsing our lines?" Rachel said through gritted teeth, pointedly looking between her and Gabrielle. "That's Gabrielle by the way, _**my **_co-star for the musical."

Santana smirked. She got this. "Fine," she casually said, slowly going backwards. "I tried. So, I'll just go and head back to my apartment, just above yours. 355 if you forgot. I'll just leave the door open, you know, in case something happens, and I think I'm gonna shower and then walk around in my apartment. Naked. In 355. Right above your apartment."

Gabrielle mouthed to her, 'I'll be right there in a few minutes' and winked. Santana smirked and left the apartment. Closing the door behind her, she didn't immediately go back to her place, but decided to eavesdrop for a few seconds longer.

"Your friend is so hot," she heard Gabrielle gush to Rachel.

Rachel grumpily replied, "Yep. Hey, do you mind me borrowing your pen?" She added to change the topic, because she didn't want to talk about Santana again.

"_This...is even wronger than Quinn's version," Rachel deadpans._

_Santana shrugs. "I think I've got all the details."_

_Quinn doesn't look satisfied with the outcome of this story. "You only focused on yourself, Santana, how are we supposed to know who's right?"_

_The adults continue to argue over who's right and Beth retreats to her room because she doesn't want to witness this mess. _

_Tony is still confused. _

* * *

_It's movie night for the Berry-Fabray family and everybody is doing their part in the preparations for a perfect movie night. Beth is making popcorn, Tony is allowed to choose the movie, Quinn sets up the TV and surround speakers and Rachel is..._

_Actually, what is Rachel doing? _

_Quinn notices the lack of participation on her wife's side and finds her sitting on the couch with her phone in her hands. The blonde can feel the dryness in her throat, the impulse to walk over to Rachel and see whom she is texting, but she can suppress the urge. Instead, she clears her throat and pretends to check the TV remote._

"_Just ask, Quinn. I know it's killing you," Rachel sighs, not looking up from her phone._

"_I don't know what you're talking about," Quinn looks up, "but since you started it – who is it?"_

"_Well," Rachel begins, trying to find a way to formulate her words into a tactful sentence. "That story the other day got me thinking. I was so sure of my version and now that I know your perspective on it– I'm gonna leave out Santana's – I don't know what to believe anymore. And so I contacted the only person who's got the last puzzle piece."_

"_What?" Quinn hisses, her grip on the remote tightening. "You texted Gabrielle? Don't think about inviting her over!"_

"_Actually," Rachel slowly starts, when the doorbell rings._

"_I want to open the door!" Tony is excited, he loves the sound of bells. He's only had good experiences so far, usually of Aunt Santana or Brittany coming over and playing with him, or boys delivering pizzas._

_Quinn's eyes widen as she frantically stares at the door, then at Rachel. "How could you?"_

"_That's the only way you would listen! And I contacted her agent last Sunday, right after the fight."_

_While Rachel is explaining, Tony opens the door and finds himself staring up at a tall, attractive woman around his mothers' age. She smiles at him and crouches down to be on eye-level with him. _

"_Hey, little man. You are Tony, right?"_

_He dazedly nods. He's only five, but he can already discern human beauty. And like any other boy, he suddenly gets bashful around her._

"_Tony, why don't you let our guest in?" Rachel says in amusement while Quinn is less amused._

_Tony steps aside and blushes. He's been taught better than that and he knows it. _

_Gabrielle, making the forties look like the best time of her life, stood up again and laughed, ruffling his hair. Tony grins, he likes his hair being ruffled because only people he loves do that with him. He doesn't mind adding that tall brunette woman to the list._

_Beth is done making popcorn and she almost drops the bowl when she comes out of the kitchen because that woman in her living room is Gabrielle Cruz, a legendary actress, and she's featured in all of Beth's favorite movies._

"_Mom," Beth breathes, slowly turning to Rachel who looks pleased to see Gabrielle, "Why did you never tell me that with Gabrielle, you meant Gabrielle **Cruz**!"_

_The only one unimpressed with Gabrielle Cruz is Quinn who crosses her arms. She feels like scoffing. _

_Her wife likes Gabrielle. Her children like her. Is the whole world against her?_

"_I think it's time for a different story," Rachel announces. "Please, Beth, Tony, sit down. And you, too, Quinn."_

_The children almost race to their respective places on the couch. Quinn wants to scowl again. But she follows her wife's orders._

_Gabrielle gracefully sits down on the single couch that Rachel gestured her to. She smiles and Quinn notices that she doesn't have wrinkles at all. The blonde huffs. She still hates her._

"_Imagine my surprise when my agent called me and said that EGOT winning Rachel Berry wanted my number. How could I say no?"_

_Quinn scoffs and her crossed arms stiffen. Of course she couldn't say no._

"_Rachel, you look as bright as ever and I see that you have beautiful children now," Gabrielle says, playfully winking at Tony who blushes and bashfully covers his red cheeks with his tiny hands. Then she smiles at Beth who looks like about to let out a sqeaul á la fangirl._

_At last, she turns to Quinn. "And your wife looks more beautiful than I remember. Guess I can't be mad at her for stealing my Oscar."_

_Damn right, Quinn thinks until she registers the compliment._

"_Thank you," she politely but stiffly replies. _

_Rachel smiles at her. "So about the story?"_

_Gabrielle laughs. "Oh, yes. I don't know why you want to hear it so much, nothing out of the ordinary happened that day. But if you insist:_

It was one of the weirdest scripts Gabrielle had ever read. But nothing compared in weirdness to the fact that she knew that she was being watched by her co-star's fianceé.

"_What?" exclaims the whole Berry-Fabray family clan except for Tony, who startles and shouts out a belated, "What?"_

_Gabrielle laughs. "Yeah, please don't judge me. But I didn't want to point it out because it would've been awkward, and I didn't want this to impact my acting relationship with Rachel. No words said, no harm done."_

_Quinn buries her face into her hands while Rachel still looks shocked. Only Beth starts to see the humor in it but she's rather busy innerly fangirling over her idol._

"_But of course, it became an acting challenge for me..."_

Gabrielle didn't know much about Rachel's fianceé but there was one thing she could be sure of, even if she was drawing conclusions. If her fianceé lurked behind the kitchen counter, then it either meant murder or uncontrollable jealousy. She guessed the latter one.

Rachel couldn't know, she sat with her back to the kitchen. But Gabrielle could see the tip of a blonde head moving behind the kitchen counter.

It wasn't that she had tried blocking out the thought of Rachel's fianceé spying on them. But as she sat opposite of Rachel, she had to look up from time to time, to interact with her while acting. That was why she couldn't help her eyes from straying to the kitchen counter.

The lines were cheesy and easy to twist around to make them sound dirty. But both tried to stay professional, even with the interruption that was Rachel's best friend.

That Santana woman didn't stay long though, so it was just them again.

It was when she accidentally hit Rachel's forehead with her pen, that she feared for her life. What if her fianceé saw that? She wasn't going to come out of this apartment alive!

So she tried to be sneaky yet smart.

"So, talking about looking for true love," Gabrielle began, "I see you found your true love?"

Rachel immediately dismissed her script and all too happily replied, "Yes, we just got engaged. I can't believe my luck, she's an Oscar winning actress!"

Gabrielle ears perked up at the word 'Oscar'. "Oh, in which category?"

"Best Leading Actress," Rachel proudly stated and that was when everything in Gabrielle's mind clicked.

"Quinn Fabray! Oh my God, you're dating Quinn Fabray!" Gabrielle enthusiastically exclaimed, bouncing up and down on the single couch. "I lost my Oscar to her, this is so awesome!"

Rachel tilted her head, giving her a weird look. How was losing an Oscar to someone awesome?

"She's already a legend between us movie actors," Gabrielle explained with a large smile. "She inspired me to try out musicals because she said my voice has an amazing tremolo that would sound good on a stage. I know she was just trying to be nice after I lost my Oscar to her, but still."

Rachel's smile grew and grew. "Mhm, you make me want to speed up the process of getting married."

"Don't wait, girl!" Gabrielle fiercely nodded. "She's a diamond. You better put a ring on it."

"_And that day, we didn't rehearse much more, but instead talked about the wedding."_

_The moment Gabrielle stops talking, silence settles over the Berry-Fabray family. _

_Quinn is the first one to speak up. Slowly. Abashedly. "I – I..I can't remember the last part..."_

_Gabrielle laughs. "Because just when it was getting good, you weren't there anymore. I noticed the lack of blonde."_

"_But I can't remember it either," Rachel adds._

"_Oh, you do. You just didn't get that far with remembering it. Maybe you've got interrupted while telling the story?"_

_And everything becomes clear. Rachel got interrupted by Quinn. Quinn got interrupted by Rachel. None of them have gotten farer than the point where Gabrielle had thrown a pen to Rachel._

"_So...you were actually happy about losing your Oscar to me?" Quinn hesitatingly asks Gabrielle. The latter one laughs and nods. "Well, I can't complain. I won a Tony afterwards, and Broadway opened my eyes for things which became useful when I acted in movies again. The Oscar came late, but it came. And that's all that matters."_

_And in this moment, they all know that Quinn doesn't hate Gabrielle anymore. _

_The blonde turns to Rachel and wants to say something, but Rachel is forgiving and kind, so she shakes her head and whispers, "It's okay. I love you, too."_

_And they look like they want to be alone that it's almost getting awkward, so Beth suddenly says, "Mrs Cruz, can I please have an autograph on my room's wall?"_


	2. That Bikini Model

"_Beth, stop hitting your brother. And Tony, stop irritating your sister. I want to tell you a little story about Auntie Santana -"_

"_Yay, Auntie Tana!"_

"_Okay, pause. Why aren't you this enthusiastic about me, kids? I'm your mom, an EGOT winning Broadway legend!"_

"_But Auntie Tana is so cool, she always lets me eat candi-"_

"_Shh, you're not supposed to tell that mom, Tony!"_

"_Aha. Guess I will have to talk about her baby-sitting ways. Anyway, you know that Santana has been my best friend since high school and we were even roommates when we went to college."_

"_Cool!"_

"_Yes, I know, right? And she always supported me in whatever I did, she was the Patrick to my Spongebob."_

"_Spongebob, whoo!"_

"_Yes, yes, okay Tony. On that note, don't watch too much TV..."_

"_Mom."_

"_Right, Beth. I'll keep going. But really, watching Spongebob hinders the process of -_

"_Mom!"_

"_Back to the story. Where was I?"_

"_Auntie Tana always supported you?"_

"_Yes, exactly. But there was one time where she almost didn't want to. Well, in the end she did, but she had never put up that much of a fight before. And it was my most important decision that she didn't support. When your mommy and I got together."_

"_No! Auntie Tana would never do that!"_

"_Well, she did. She was very unhappy at first."_

"_But why?"_

"_I tell you why. It was twenty years ago and it began in a bar after I hadn't seen your aunt for a long time, three months to be exact, and she didn't know of your mommy yet:_

"- so I watched that fool trying his luck and damn were his lines lame; I was tempted to go all Lima Heights on him 'cause he seriously had no game -"

Rachel tried to appear interested in Santana's story as she let her straw rotate in her drink, stirring the ice cubes that seemed to take up half of the glass.

"So I was like, no moron, you're doing it wrong, let Miss Lima Heights show you how it's done – and I walked right over to them, and I just, like, stood right in front of him with my back turned to him, and – Berry, are you listening?"

Finally, Santana seemed to have noticed the glassy eyes of her companion.

Rachel quickly blinked and straightened herself in her barstool, flattening out non-existant wrinkles in her dress. "Yes, yes I'm listening. You were talking about one of your conquests?"

Santana gave her a suspicious look and she crossed her arms. "You're awfully quiet. I mean, I haven't seen you for months and I honestly expected more enthusiasm -"

"No, it's not you," Rachel sighed, before she waved at the bartender. "Here, let me buy you a new drink."

Santana didn't realize that her cocktail glass had been empty, so when Rachel ordered something, she loudly added, "And double that please, for the lovely woman who's still sober enough to think."

"No, I'm fine," Rachel protested, but her words drowned in Santana's commanding voice, "Quick, quick; we don't have all night. Well, we do, but we prefer to spend it in someone's pants."

The look the bartender sent her spoke for itself, but Santana just sneered in his direction and tossed her hair over her shoulder. Rachel rolled her eyes at her friend's behaviour, which hadn't changed a bit in the three months they hadn't seen each other. The smaller brunette thought that Santana's work environment, the courtroom, would somehow force the mature side of her out. Not that she deemed her unprofessional, which she certainly was; but once she was out of her business suit, she was out of the moral zone.

"Okay, since my sexcapades bore you so much, tell me some of yours then," Santana suggested with a smirk. " And don't tell me you're not getting any behind the curtains of Broadway. A nomination for a Tony? I gotta say I'm impressed. And hey, if there's a hot actress interested in broadening her horizon, you know where to direct her."

Rachel failed at mustering up a knowing smirk. She tried to hide her expression by quickly setting the newly mixed drink to her lips, staring down at the liquid.

This strange action made Santana reach for her glass slowly, eyeing her friend suspiciously. "You're freaking me out, Berry. You've been acting this strange since we arrived here."

"Don't be ridiculous," Rachel scoffed, a feeble attempt to make Santana seem like the one who was acting strange. "We've been here for just half an hour."

"Exactly!" Santana raised her voice, pointing with one finger at her friend. "Half an hour already and you're not covered in bitches yet, what the hell is going on? Did you leave your game on the stage or what?"

"Would you keep it quiet?" Rachel hissed, uncomfortably staring around to see whether someone had heard Santana's loud words. Then she added with a growl, "I don't feel like it tonight."

Santana gasped out loud, blinked furiously, then reached for her drink to down it in two gulps.

Rachel stared at her in disbelief, watching her friend signalling the bartender to mix another drink. She wanted to remark about Santana's borderline alcoholic behaviour when her phone vibrated in her purse. Deciding to let the other woman be, she opened her purse and took out her phone, reading the incoming message. She had to suppress a smile.

"Oh no," Santana panted, her wide eyes focused on the phone in Rachel's hands, "oh, no, no, no, _no, no, no -"_

"What?" Rachel said, irritated.

"Gimme that phone -"

"What – no, Santana!"

Trying to hold the phone out of Santana's reach, Rachel fought her hands off her, slapping them away but Santana was determined. She lunged forward, not caring if drinks or snacks were in the way, snapping after the phone and after a few seconds of light wrestling, she triumphantly pulled back with Rachel's phone in her hand.

"Santana!" Rachel warningly hissed, trying to get her phone back, but Santana had hopped off her barstool and fled with her eyes already on the screen. And with every second that passed, her eyes seemed to get wider and wider, and all Rachel could do was stand there, huffing and pulling a grimace.

Santana walked back to where her friend was sitting, a dark expression on her face. She shoved the phone back into Rachel's hands.

"My suspicions got confirmed," she muttered grimly. "How could you. You traitor."

"Look, I can explain," Rachel started, but she got interrupted by Santana, "That's what they always say and they never do. Damn it, how could you do this to me? I thought we...I thought you and I..."

Empathically, Rachel stayed silent and let her friend sort this out herself. Santana seemed to be in great distress, which she had already expected and she hadn't planned on her finding out this way. Or tonight. Or ever.

"We can fix this," Santan suddenly said, her incredulous expression turning determined. "It's just a phase. I went through it once, too; it's okay, I'll guide you out of the darkness - let's find you a smoking girl here and now -"

"Santana."

"And you will be thankful that I saved your life, your independence and your bank account -"

"Okay, this is getting ridiculous..."

"It's _not _ridiculous, okay, this is _anything_ but ridiculous! Actually, this is fucking serious! Everything's fine and dandy now, but whoops, there goes your freedom, and whoops, there goes your money on engagement rings, weddings, diapers, a family van and a big house in the suburbs! Yes, to me it's fucking serious!"

Rachel blankly stared at her friend, who was panting by now. "Are you finished?"

"No!" Santana snapped. "Why didn't you tell me that you need help?"

"Help? I'm engaged, not drug-addicted!"

"Which is why you need help!" Santana said in agitation. "And why didn't I know of your – of your...you know, _girlfriend_. I can't believe you did the unforgivable act of commitment."

"It just happened," Rachel exasperatedly said, shaking her head. "Believe me, I fought against it at first, but she showed me that love was so much better."

Santana considerably paled. "Oh my gosh. She brainwashed you. This is bad. This is really, _really_ bad."

"Santana," Rachel sighed. "It was bound to happen. I mean, we're 27 now and the critical 30 is coming nearer, and maybe I've gotten tired of the games we used to play."

"Oh sweet fucking..." Santana bit her lip. "Do you even hear yourself? This is sick. I think I'm gonna throw up and I didn't even hit my critical twelve shots."

"Don't make such a big deal out of it -"

"Big deal? Yeah it is, a fucking big deal! I'm losing my best friend here to the chains of marriage! You can't get engaged!"

"I already am."

"Oh, don't remind me," Santana growled, reaching for her refilled drink to down it again.

"You will like her once you meet her," Rachel tried, warily watching her friend waiting for the last drop of alcohol to land on her outstretched tongue. "She can't wait to meet you."

"Fantastic," Santana sarcastically muttered after setting the glass down. "How about now, so I can show her the benefits of getting on my wrong side."

"You won't."

"You know that I will. She stole my wingwoman, so I'm gonna steal her kidney."

"Santana -" Rachel sighed, but Santana snapped with her fingers and shook her head.

"How long?" she only asked, her tone dead serious.

Rachel cowered back, reluctant to answer. "Four months?"

"Four months!" Santana immediately shouted, shocked and disappointed, but mostly shocked. "Are you – are you shitting on my already hurting heart? Four months – and you get engaged?"

"I knew her longer than that," Rachel defensively retorted, then, after a look around the bar, "And could you quiet down because everybody's already staring..."

"To hell with everybody," Santana hissed, accidentally knocking over her empty cocktail glass when she gestured wildly with her hand. Completely unfazed, she continued with a rising voice, "But I'm not going to let you slip backwards to hell, not if I can stop it..."

"Santana," Rachel breathed in irritation and for the first time this night, she resolutetely reached for her drink and took a generous sip. She couldn't survive this sober.

Her friend shared the same thought and ordered her fourth drink in a row. The bartender shot her a strange look but then shrugged; he had to make money, too.

"So," Santana cleared her throat after having wetted it with her new drink, "you didn't think about telling me once in the whole four months. Betraying me like that. Betraying my trust."

Rachel rubbed one eye with the palm of her hand. "You sound like I cheated on you."

"Well, you did!" Santana immediately retorted. "I thought we were best friends? You know I've got everything planned, I already arranged our graves to lie next to each other and frankly, there's no place for a girlfriend inbetween."

"Fiancée," Rachel corrected her before wrinkling her nose. "You did?"

"Now that's not important." Santana played with a napkin until it accidentally slipped through her fingers and gently floated to the ground. She looked after it with a wistful expression, missing the eye-roll of her friend. "See? That napkin represents our friendship. You're slipping away and I can't stop you from falling."

"Great," Rachel muttered to herself. "Metaphors are _my_ thing, Santana. And what makes you think I'm slipping away?"

"This!" And Santana pointed to her friend, then around the bar. "We don't have girls laughing over our stupid jokes and fake stories, and we're already one hour here. It must be you, you're definitely sending off those 'I'm ruining my life with an engagement' vibes and they must have caught on."

Rachel raised one eyebrow. "Or maybe it's because of you that everybody thinks we're a fighting couple right now?"

"You know what?" Santana defensively held up her hands. "We should cool down before we talk about this again. This is not over."

"You mean _you _should cool down."

Ignoring Rachel's remark, Santana continued in a calmer voice, "Why don't you go to the bathroom and freshen up while I try my luck with the ladies? At least one of us doesn't have to swear off sex forever."

Since Rachel was at a point where she was tired of defending herself against her friend's jabs at her, she just silently nodded and hopped off her barstool, making her way to the restroom.

At the same time did Santana turn around in her seat and quickly scan the place for suitable ladies. She caught one blond girl staring after the retreating form of Rachel.

To Santana's luck, the blonde was fairly attractive and right up Rachel's preferences.

Not hesitating one second, she made her way towards the clueless victim, who was occupying one table with four of her friends. Santana didn't care if she came across strange or even creepy, she flashed the confused girls looking up at her a winning smile.

"Do you mind me stealing you for one minute?" Santana directed her politely formulated question at the blonde, who looked questioningly to her friends. They were sizing Santana up.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not interested," the sitting girl gently rejected, shaking her head to underline her words.

Santana was on a mission, she didn't have time to feel offended and hurt in her ego, so she added, "Oh, no, it's not about me. I saw you looking at my friend walking to the bathroom."

Alarmed, the blonde leaned back and quickly said, "I didn't mean to stare at your girlfriend! I'm so sorry if -"

"No, that's actually great!" Santana interrupted her with an excited hand-clap, receiving weird looks from the other girls at the table. "She's not my girlfriend, but she definitely needs one. You see, she's been single and lonely for a long time, and she doesn't think she's attractive enough to be noticed. And just by the way, what's your profession?"

"Bikini model."

"Perfect." Santana couldn't believe her luck, there was no chance that Rachel could resist her now.

But the blonde still looked unsure. "But how do I know if I'm her type?"

Santana refrained from rolling her eyes, but couldn't help her sarcasm and bluntness. "You're blonde, hot and you have a vagina, you'll do fine. And plus, my friend got nominated for a Tony that she'll most likely win if the judges aren't deaf, now who wouldn't tap that?"

Listening up at that point, the blonde sat up straighter and so did her friends. She looked like asking another question, but Santana worriedly glanced at the direction of the bathroom and when she saw Rachel returning, she lowly hissed, "Now go, go, go! Pretend you like Broadway and ask a question about Barbra Streisand and she will take over the rest of the conversation, now move! And don't forget buying her drinks, she'll be horny around the third margarita!"

Santana watched the blonde approaching Rachel and they seemed to get into a lively conversation.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she realized that she still stood by the table with four other girls staring at her with amusement.

"Do you mind?" she tiredly asked and pointed to the empty chair, which used to be occupied by the blonde girl now flirting with Rachel. They shook their head and she let herself plop down on it, reaching for the nearest drink. When no one protested, she swallowed the whole content in one take.

"Why did you do that? She doesn't seem interested and it's not fair to let our friend get her hopes up."

Finally, one of the present girls dared to voice their concern and Santana sighed. "Your friend, she'll survive that. But _my_ friend? Probably not if I don't do something drastic."

The four girls shared a curious look. Was it something severe, something so serious that it decided over life and death?

Awestruck, one of them whispered, "Is it a very serious condition that your friend has?"

A dark look crossed Santana's face as she gravely muttered, "Very. She doesn't have much time left. She's in her first stadium and things will get worse in about three to four months. Then I'm not sure if I'll ever have her back again. And all I'll be able to do is stand by and watch her slowly leaving me."

The girls looked at each other in shock. Then one of them spoke up with a shaking voice, "So you want your friend to enjoy the time that is left?"

"Let's formulate it differently," Santana wetted her lips. "I want to remind her of the great things in life, maybe I can win some time before she leaves us. Or even save her completely."

No more questions were asked, the girls were touched with angsty emotions.

And Santana watched with focused eyes how the conversation between Rachel and the blonde was going.

"Shit," she mumbled to herself, when she noticed Rachel slowly setting up a fake smile and her familiar 'I'm going to blow you off' stance. It consisted of an apologetic smile and a sheepish grin, then an awkward laugh.

Santana looked to the silent girls at her table and casually asked, "If it doesn't work out between them two, who of you want to try next?"

They stared at her, dumbfounded. Santana pretended to be offended. "Now come on, girls. You don't want my friend to die early, now do you?"

"Sorry, but we all have boyfriends. Only Catherine bats for the other team."

Santana stood up and said between gritted teeth, "Murderers, all of you." Then she turned on her heel and left, just as the blonde girl was returning to her table with a disappointed look.

Santana nonchalantly sat on the barstool next to Rachel again, wordlessly sipping on her drink and observing her friend.

"Santana." It was a low, warning tone. "Did you just try to set me up?"

"No," Santana retorted like she was personally offended by this accusation. "Why would I do that?"

"Yeah, why would you do that?" Rachel repeated, her irritated tone showing. "You know I'm in a serious relationship and I have absolutely no intention of ever betraying Quinn!"

"Quinn's her name?" Santana incredulously asked, then she stifled a laugh. "You sure that it's not a very female looking guy -"

The words died on Santana's lips when she caught the murderous look Rachel was giving her.

"Okay, okay," Santana gave in. "No insults about her looks."

Rachel stirred her drink with a straw again, when she suddenly looked up and asked, quite exasperated, "Just tell me, why are you so against the thought of me in a serious relationship? Why can't you be happy for me that I found someone to love?"

Santana looked like she had bitten her tongue. She couldn't talk without tears stinging her eyes. Shit was about to get emotional, she felt it. Damn the five drinks in one hour.

Rachel's expression softened when she saw the alcohol in Santana's body kicking in and bringing out her emotional side. She gently said, "You know you can tell me the truth."

Santana held up one hand, the other covering her mouth.

Shooting a nervous look around the room, Rachel leaned towards her friend and soothingly rubbed her back. "Now everybody's _really_ thinking that I broke up with you," she whispered.

That was when Santana was finally able to talk again.

"I just don't want to lose you," she choked out and Rachel would've found the confession much more heart-warming if her friend didn't complete it with a burp.

"You're not going to lose me, Santana."

"I will!" Santana exclaimed, her voice turning into loud whining and Rachel felt embarrassed on her behalf. "You will get married and have babies and have all this stuff that'll steal all of your time. And then? Where do I fit in all of this? Where is my place in the picture? I'm gonna grow old alone, getting wrinkles and cellulite, and then no one's gonna want to get up on this."

Eyes widening with every word, Rachel helplessly patted on her friend's back. But she finally understood Santana's worry and now she could list up arguments why it wasn't going to be this way.

"You will always be in the picture that is my life," she softly said, nudging Santana's arm. "And I will always have time for you. Except if you want me to visit a new strip club with you, because that last time was enough, I can't believe you let me hanging in there...Anyway, what I'm trying to say, is: just because Quinn is in my life now, doesn't mean that she will replace you. She's just occupying a place in my heart that has been empty before, it doesn't even touch yours."

Santana looked up with watery eyes. "Really?"

Rachel softly laughed. "Really. And I promise you that you'll be the godmother of my children."

"You know I hate children," Santana replied with a frown, her eyes drying.

"You won't hate mine," Rachel easily retorted.

"I'll try. Or at least pretend."

And Rachel was glad, because Santana was back.

"Hey, maybe you'll find someone to love, too."

Santana snorted. "Doubt it. Watching you walking the path to hell is already enough."

"Which you accepted by now." Rachel tried to make the best of it.

"Yes, which I accept now," Santana sighed. Then she added, "But I'm not wearing pink on your wedding."

"Of course not, I'm not five and role-playing," Rachel scoffed. She reached for her drink when her phone vibrated in her purse. She shot Santana a nervous look.

"Go get it," Santana nodded, sipping at her own drink.

Smiling, Rachel took out her phone and read the message that her fiancée sent. Her jaw dropped and she quickly pulled the purse to herself, jumping off the barstool.

"Santana!" Rachel squealed in excitement, bouncing on the spot and Santana was about to get dizzy from following her movements with her eyes. "Quinn found out that she got nominated for an Oscar in the category Best Actress in a Leading Role! I've got to go and gratulate her! Do you mind if I -"

"Oh, I can't take this, just go already," Santana cut her off, though with a small smile. At least she knew now that Rachel's girlfriend wasn't a no-name loser.

Rachel let out a high-pitched squeal and hugged Santana fiercely, before she dashed out of the bar.

Santana shook her head to herself. She needed to drink on that.

She raised her hand to signal the bartender, but faltered once a young, female bartender with blond flowing hair sauntered over to her.

"What can I get you?" she asked with twinkling blue eyes when Santana didn't budge.

"Er – where's the other bartender?" Santana stuttered, too overwhelmed to remember what she wanted to order in the first place.

"Oh, it's my shift now and it's my first time working here. I hope you don't mind a newbie mixing a drink for you."

Santana didn't mind at all. Leaning on the counter top with her elbows, she tried not to come over as desperate when she quickly asked, "And does this pretty newbie have a name and a touching background story?"

The bartender laughed and Santana's ego soared up high. She still had game after all.

"Brittany. My name's Brittany Pierce and I'm working here to save some money so I can open up my own dance studio in the near future."

"Oh," Santana breathed. "That's a nice story. Is there somewhere a side role for me?"

And Santana cringed at her own words, she didn't mean to sound so corny -

"Maybe," Brittany coyly smiled and she reached for a shaker. "If you play your cards right, there might be even a leading role for you." And with that, she sauntered away to serve other waiting customers, leaving Santana staring after her with a pounding heart.

"Damn Berry and your 'settling down' ideas," Santana muttered to herself, before she swallowed down the lump in her throat and signalled the new bartender that she wanted a drink. Brittany beamed at her and winked, mouthing 'one moment please'.

Santana grinned like a fool. "But maybe this idea isn't so bad."

"_Wow, that's the same night Auntie Tana met Auntie Britt?"_

"_Yes, and I only found out about it three months later, when they started dating exclusively. Talking about betrayal of trust..."_

"_And did Auntie really almost cry because she thought you were leaving her?"_

"_Yes, Tony."_

"_Now that changes everything."_

"_Changes what, Beth?"_

"_Like, you used to be a chick magnet before mommy! How cool is that, do you think that you still got game? How about telling my math teacher to be easier on me, I know she's gay, saw her leaving a gay bar-"_

"_Wait a minute, you saw her leaving a bar? What time around was that? Before your curfew? I think not!"_

"_That's what I'm talking about. This is not cool. You are not cool anymore."_

"_I resent that, Beth. And you're not being a good role model to Tony."_

"_It's too late for him anyway -"_

"_Beth."_

"_Alright. But don't go double-standard on me, now that I know your past. Like, did Tana really try to set you up with a bikini model?"_

"_Who's setting who up with a bikini model?"_

_Alarmed."Quinn!" Excited. "Mommy!"_

"_Is your mother boring you with details of how we met, again?"_

"_No, this time it's actually quite cool, you see-"_

_Warningly. "Beth..."_

"_-after you two got engaged, Auntie Tana tried setting mom up with a bikini model so -"_

"_She did **what**?"_

"_She didn't, honey."_

"_But you said it yourself, mom!"_

"_Thanks, Tony. When I said that honesty is one of our basic family principles, I didn't mean that you should betray me."_

"_Rachel, explain."_

"_Ah, well, you see, hehe, a quite funny story actually-"_

"_Uh huh. Maybe I'll just let you spend one night on the couch alone, so you can dream about your bikini model without feeling guilty! And never mind the wife that gave up her bikini figure for your first child!"_

"_But Quinn, you look gorgeous, I love your body-"_

"_Apparently not if you're still thinking about that bikini model! I'm outta here."_

"_No, I'm not, no - Quinn honey, don't be irrational, she was such a small role in the story, though she did impress me with her Miss California title – but, but Quinn! I swear, I didn't, please don't -"_

"_She can't hear you anymore, mom."_

"_I know, Tony. She never hears the important parts."_

"_Not getting some tonight?"_

"_Beth, you're this close to getting grounded. Now you two go to sleep, and I'll sneak into the bedroom anyway and do things which you both shouldn't do until you're 25."_

"_Ew. And what did I say about double-standard?"_

"_I don't understand, mom."_

"_It's fine, Tony. I don't mind if you don't understand it for the next twenty years, but you'll probably know anyway once you enter middle school. Good night, kids."_

"_Night. And you're still quite cool, mom."_

"_Yeah! Love you, mom."_

"_I love you, too. Now off you go, so I can make your other mommy love me again."_

"_Thank God for the sound-proofed rooms."_

"_I still don't understand."_

"_It's okay, Tony. Neither will Beth understand why she's grounded now."_

"_Mom!"_


End file.
